


White Gardenia

by EggmansGayLover (MarkingArt)



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (2020)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Mild Blood, Mutual Pining, Pining, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:01:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24574993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarkingArt/pseuds/EggmansGayLover
Summary: A petal floated from his mouth.  He froze, and his blood ran cold.  Simple.  White.  Elegant.  The symbol of his downfall.
Relationships: Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik/Agent Stone
Comments: 3
Kudos: 113





	White Gardenia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShatteredKeyboardofaSimp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShatteredKeyboardofaSimp/gifts).



> This is a challenge I did with a friend, we decided to write a fic off of the concept of hanahaki and the line of dialogue at the end of this fic.

Agent Stone first started showing symptoms on a hot summer morning. He shot awake from his bed and gave in to a light coughing fit. Probably just allergies.

Until a petal floated from his mouth. He froze, and his blood ran cold at the sight. Simple. White. Elegant. The symbol of his downfall.

Hanahaki wasn’t common. It was mostly genetic, and it hadn’t appeared in Stone’s family for generations. Knowing that, he had never worried about it. He didn’t think about his great-great uncle that choked to death on his own blood and acacia blossoms.

Luckily it was Sunday, his day off. He rushed to the doctor’s office after a frantic call to make the appointment. He could hear the pity in the receptionist’s voice as he explained that he had coughed up a petal.

He shivered on the cold examining table after his X-ray. The look in the doctor’s eyes told him there was no denying his condition, but they went through with the scan anyway.

That same look still adorned the man’s face as he walked into the room with the results. He silently handed the papers to Stone, whose heart dropped. In the negative space of his lungs were flowers. About a half dozen round, rose-looking flowers in each lung. He looked up at the doctor.

“They’re white gardenia. They symbolize secret love and gentleness… I’m sorry.” Stone shook his head roughly. 

“What can we do about it?” The man grimaced.

“There’s nothing we can do. Once the flowers bloom, it’s too late. All we can hope for is that she loves you back. Then they’ll detach from your lungs and you’ll be cured. The surgery was discontinued as an option two years ago, it was deemed inhumane.” He stood suddenly from the table, startling the doctor into stepping back. He couldn’t find it in himself to feel bad as he stormed out of the office.

He was so angry. At that doctor, at himself. Mostly himself. Because he knew exactly who it was that caused his illness. And it wasn’t a ‘she’.

It was doctor Robotnik.

He went home and did some research. The white gardenia was a flower not dissimilar to a rose. It often symbolized purity and secret love. They were a part of the coffee family. How ironic. 

He suddenly felt guilty for being angry. It wasn’t that doctor’s fault. It was nobody’s but his own.

It wasn’t hard to hide from him at first. Every few hours Stone would silently cough up a few petals into his open palm, where it was then shoved deep into his pockets. No blood yet, and no blooms or buds. 

For being a genius, Robotnik was woefully oblivious. The first few days saw him screeching at Stone for ‘interrupting his workflow’ by coughing, but soon they both got used to it. Stone would spit up a petal, Robotnik would glance back at him, and it was hurriedly pressed into his pocket with a beaming and flushed smile. 

It had been three weeks since his official diagnosis, and he was only getting worse. He was coughing almost constantly, to the irritated concern of his doctor. His breath rattled in his lungs, which ached and itched and burned. 

He was nervous for the meeting today. It was their annual funding meeting. The one that essentially determined if they were keeping their jobs. And Stone was in no position to be attending.

His face was reddened and his hands were clammy as the coffee cup he held trembled imperceptibly. Two of the latest Badnik models followed behind him and Robotnik, illuminating the dark hallway in red light. If they ran their vitals scanner on him they would’ve found he had a low fever. The man in question strode confidently, but Stone could see in the way he held his jaw that he was nervous too.

The doctor took his seat at the head of the table. The badniks hovered above him and to the left, leaving Stone his usual space behind him and to the right. He stood patiently as various high-ranking officials trickled in and the time neared that of their meeting. 

Finally, the only man that mattered walked in. Mere seconds before the clock turned to noon, he was taking a seat opposite to Robotnik.

“I think we’ve surpassed the need for niceties. Show me the progress you’ve made.” His gravelly voice made Stone’s throat itch.

Robotnik performed his usual dog and pony show with his drones, showing off blueprint after blueprint and rattling on about new designs and future updates. The man seemed impressed, which made Stone smile softly. Their funding was likely secured.

Robotnik stood from his chair finally, forcing him and the drones back a bit. It was time for the live demonstration, which Stone would be helping with.

“One of the most important updates I’ve made is giving the drones the ability to follow a series of voice commands, as opposed to past models which only follow orders given via remote control. I will now give the reins to agent Stone here, and he will demonstrate their new capability to understand voice commands in different languages.” Stone smiled and stepped forward. “Badnik C-7 and C-12, transfer command authority to agent Stone.” 

The drones immediately moved to hover on either side of Stone’s head, whose smile faltered. There was that familiar tickle in his lungs, and he swallowed hard to push it down. This was not the time.

His eyes began to water. He began to clear his throat.

And didn’t stop.

As he submitted to a heavily suppressed coughing fit, Robotnik approached him.

_ “What the fuck is wrong with you?” _ He hissed in his ear. Stone just shook his head. He was screwed. 

He felt petals rising in his throat with each muffled cough, and pressed his hand hard over his mouth. 

“Agent Stone, step outside please. We can continue this without you. Badnik C-7 and C-12, transfer command authority back to Doctor Robotnik.” Stone could hardly see through his watery eyes as he dashed to the bathroom attached to the meeting room. His stomach ached at the thought of having ruined the meeting, but it was quickly overwhelmed when he knelt over the toilet in one of the stalls. 

The hands gripping the side of the toilet began to shake as he caught sight of the petals shooting from his mouth. Those beautiful white petals were damp with not just his own saliva. 

They were coated in blood. 

The disease had progressed further. Maybe because he had spent last night with the object of his affections, sleeping in the Murphy bunk bed above Robotnik’s own because of late-night preparations for the meeting. The closer he was to Robotnik, the worse it would be. 

After several minutes of hacking and gagging over the toilet, he collapsed next to it. His face was sweat-slicked, and he assumed his suit would be too. He could feel his fever climbing. This was the stage of Hanahaki that should have seen him checking into the ER. But he had a job to do. 

He panted heavily from his spot on the ground next to the toilet. It was mere moments that he allowed himself to rest before he stood on unsteady legs. 

After patting his eyes with a wet paper towel, he looked up into the mirror. It could be worse… The doctor was painfully oblivious to those around him anyway. 

He waited until Robotnik’s ‘presentation voice’ that flowed through the door faded to leave the bathroom. Luckily the meeting seemed to be over, as people were idly chatting with each other out of their chairs. He made a beeline to Robotnik, who glared at him. 

“We got the funding. No thanks to you.” He felt his already weak smile falter. 

“I’m so sorry, Doctor. I don’t know what happened-“

“Save it. Just get the badniks back to the lab. Then you can go home for the day, I don’t want to see you right now.” He nodded around the lump in his throat. 

After Robotnik pressed a few buttons on his gloves, the badniks turned to hover over Stone’s shoulders, who began the journey back to the lab. But he stopped as the man from earlier stepped in front of him. His pleasant smile was back at full force, and his palms grew hot under the sweat. He looked upset.

“Look… You need to tell doctor Robotnik what’s going on. We haven’t seen him this productive since he started working with us, and it’s all thanks to you. We can’t be losing you.” Stone froze and chuckled nervously.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean, sir.” The man huffed, and looked Stone in the eye.

“Yes you do. I saw the way you looked at him. I saw the way you rushed to the bathroom after. If you die of the disease, he’ll be back to the disaster he was before you came along.  _ Tell him.” _

“I… yes sir.” He smiled softly at him, pity coloring his eyes.

Was he really that obvious?

He went to bed that night with tears in his eyes and the bitter taste of blood on his tongue. The next morning didn’t see him any better; sleep encrusting his eyes as he sat up with a groan. He ached all over and dreaded the doctor’s inevitable rage. He didn’t think he could handle disappointing him one more time.

But he was a loyal agent. He powered through his morning and came into work with impeccable dress and a chipper smile. Nobody would be able to tell that it was all fake. Not unless they got close enough to hear the petals quite literally fluttering in his chest.

The doctor’s latte that morning was made with a little extra sweetener. It was a small but effective technique he had learned that would calm him down ever so slightly. His usual heart in the foam was perfect, as always. Although it wasn’t as if Robotnik would see it under the lid of the cup. He never did.

Ducking into the lab, his smile faded as he caught sight of the doctor. He was facing the door, reclined in his chair. Like he was expecting him- which he was- but he never paid any attention to when Stone clocked in. A seed of dread grew in his stomach.

“S-Sir?” The man sighed, rubbing his face with the hand that had previously been supporting his head.

“You’re sick, Stone. You said it was just allergies but I know it isn’t. I need you to tell me what’s wrong with you. Your job is on the line.” Stone almost dropped his coffee. Shit. He knew this was going to happen eventually. He had a choice to make.

He could tell the truth and lose everything. Die without the man he loved giving him a thought beyond a fleeting memory of disgust. Or he could lie.

“I don’t know what’s wrong, doctor. It’s just been like this.”

“It’s hindering your ability to work. Do you know what that means?” His blood ran cold. He nodded.

“I’ll let you stay for now. If only because I need you around. If I haven’t made it clear enough, I value your presence. I hope that isn’t your problem; not understanding that. Otherwise you may want to get your head checked as well.” He simply smiled grimly and nodded. It was time to hide away in the restroom for a bit. That wet burning in his lungs was back.

At the five week mark, he was beginning to regret not having checked into the ER. His muscles ached, his skin was sticky with sweat almost constantly. Every morning he stepped out of the shower feeling more gross than he had before. It was exhausting, but it was too late now. When he died, it would be with his doctor. Even if it wasn’t in the way he had been hoping for.

He still went in to work every day. He worked as hard as ever, faster than ever. The doctor would assign him a mission, and he would complete it in record time. But it was getting harder. He moved more sluggishly. It was becoming dangerous.

Yesterday he had been sent to kill someone for Robotnik, he had suffered a coughing fit when he was supposed to be in hiding. The petals and noise had alerted the man he was targeting, who had pulled a gun on him. Luckily, his own gun had already been drawn, and within less than a second he was hitting the floor with a near-silent  _ thud. _

Those kinds of slip-ups would cost him his life if they kept happening. Maybe it would be a better way to go than suffocating on flowers.

He had never felt like the term ‘walk of shame’ fit before he came in to work that day. He knew Robotnik was aware that something had gone wrong. He always was.

And he was right. Robotnik was turned away from him when he entered the lab, but the side-eyed glance directed at him was telling enough. He knew the best course of action at this point would be to come clean. Mostly at least.

“I messed up, doctor.”

“I know, agent.” He turned to face him. He didn’t look angry. “Your sickness is getting in the way. I don’t want to send you on the mission that will lead to your death. You’re the best agent there is, but until you recover from whatever’s going on, I will be sending others on your missions.” He nodded haltingly.

“Yes, sir.” His heart sank. What was the point of him being around if he wasn’t protecting the doctor?

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep you around. Who else is going to make me my lattes?” His playful tone made Stone smile softly. “Now, I have some blueprints to work on. I emailed you some paperwork.”

Stone nodded again and took a seat at the small desk next to Robotnik’s own, pulling open his laptop. They whittled away at their respective projects, silently sipping their coffee. But he stopped when he glanced over at Robotnik.

He was staring at Stone. 

He was smiling, crow’s feet adorning the sides of his eyes. His face was so soft, with an emotion he couldn’t quite place. His smile only widened when his eyes met with Stone’s.

A sick feeling rose in his stomach, and he scrambled up from his seat.

“I- I’ll be right back” He almost didn’t make it to the restroom before he was coughing up a mouthful of petals. Blood dripped from his mouth into the toilet he knelt before.

Tears welled in his eyes, beginning to drip into the toilet with the blood and flowers. After hacking up the last of the petals, he spat out the blood left in his mouth. He sniffled, collapsing beside the toilet once again. His head fell into his hands.

Why did he have to ruin that moment? That look in his eyes made his aching chest feel so warm. The constant sting went away in that split second that their eyes met, but the second his smile widened, the flowers were back.

What could that mean?

Six weeks in and he struggled to even make Robotnik his lattes. The day progressed as it always did, as of recently. Stone excused himself to the restroom almost every hour. Robotnik said nothing. Not even a mention of the hacking coughs that could be heard. He stood in his corner of the lab, out of the doctor’s sight. As always. But his muscles tensed at a painful tickle in his lungs. They hurt all the time now. A constant ache to remind him of his own stupidity.

He doubled over as the familiar burning itch in his lungs arose. It was worse this time. So much worse. This had to be it. He could feel a large lump coming up his throat- blocking his airway as he gagged silently.

Fuck- he wasn’t going to make it to the bathroom. Robotnik was going to see. Robotnik was going to sneer at him as he lay dying. He distantly felt his knees give out as his vision blurred. Blood bubbled from between his lips, spilling down his chin. It was hot against the skin of his face.

_ “Stone!” _ He didn’t hear the call of his name through the ringing in his ears, but he could feel the ground shake as Robotnik stormed across the lab. He didn’t hear the strain in his voice. He didn’t hear the fear tainting it. He turned his head up to look at him with regret.

_ “What’s wrong?”  _ He could see the words on his lips, and he shook his head violently. His vision was going black in the corners from the lack of oxygen. Was this how he was to die? A flower lodged in his throat?

Robotnik had fear in his eyes as he harshly thumped Stone’s back. He was choking- he must have been.

A flower shot out of his mouth.

It was just like the doctor had said all that time ago. A full white gardenia. About the size of his palm, and coated in blood. Only small patches of white remained.

His breathing heaved as oxygen returned to his brain. Panting hard, face red. Robotnik was still staring at the flower.

“Oh.”

“Yeah” He rasped. His throat hurt so bad. 

“You’re dying, agent. Why haven’t you told her?” He grimaced. Fuck it, he was dying anyway.

“It’s not a ‘her’”

“Oh, what does that matter, Stone? You need to tell him! I can’t have you dying on me. They’re whole flowers now, good god it might already be too late.” Stone wheezed out a breath, feeling another one coming up.

“It’s you.” Robotnik’s brows furrowed, lips parting. But then he grinned. That wide, maniacal grin that may have been what made him fall in the first place.

“Well isn’t that convenient? I feel the same way, of course. I thought I had made that obvious.” Suddenly the ache in his lungs intensified into a burn. He could hear a sickening ripping sound, and out from his mouth came a small gardenia bush. There was no struggle to cough it up this time, his body naturally and finally rejecting the plant in its lungs. 

“You’re in love with me?”

“I have been for the past five years. But astute observation stone, considering you’re still alive” 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all liked this one!


End file.
